White Houses
by GirlInTheMirror121
Summary: AU Glee: five strangers move in to a small house in New York City's bohemian district, SoHo. As they learn to live together and become fast friends, they fall in love, get their hearts broken, and lean on each other for support. You can pretty much disregard any canon pairings when it comes to this story. Sorry, Klainers and Finchel fans. Inspired by the song "White Houses".
1. Kurt

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or White Houses.**

**Note: AU Glee: five strangers move in to a small house in New York City's bohemian district, SoHo. As they learn to live together and become fast friends, they fall in love, get their hearts broken, and lean on each other for support. You can pretty much disregard any canon pairings when it comes to this story. Sorry, Klainers and Finchel fans. Also, it will switch narrators between the five characters with each chapter. Enjoy!**

**Song: White Houses by Vanessa Carlton. Highly recommended listening as you read this. **

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_Crashed on the floor when I moved in_

"Good gracious, I can't believe I'm actually here." I gazed up at the small white home nuzzled between a red house and a brown house in SoHo. I'd always wanted to go New York City, and this was the perfect opportunity to start life anew. The "I" in question is me, Kurt Hummel, formerly of a small town in Ohio but now a brand-new resident of the Big Apple. I was lucky enough to find this foreclosed townhouse for rent in the charming and quaint bohemian district, nay the very artistic soul of the City. Of course, it means that I must share this house with four complete strangers, but that matters not to me. All that matters is that I'm here, and I can start over.

See, I just got out of a bad breakup with my boyfriend (who shall remain nameless, as my heart still aches!). I wanted to get as far away as I possibly could, and the only logical explanation was the Big City of Dreams. I must admit, it does seem rather cowardly, running away from the heartbreak, but it is better than facing him day in and day out in our small town in the Midwest. Ah, how joyous to be in the isle of Manhattan, mere streets away from the twinkling lights of Broadway! Surely I would never be bored. Perhaps one of my roommates would even be a nice handsome man.

I turned the key in the door. "Hello? Anybody here?"

"Hello?" A girl's voice answered. I saw a flash of black hair peeping from around the corner. "Who are you?"

I close the door behind me, dropping my suitcase on the floor. "Hi, I'm Kurt Hummel. I'm one of your roommates."

She emerges. She is an Asian girl of medium height with long, shimmering black hair. She wore a black skirt and a black ruffled skirt. She had stockings on, black, naturally, and black shoes on her feet. I almost instinctively took a step backwards; if you dressed like that in my hometown, people would automatically label you a freak. "Hi," she said, her voice soft. "I'm Tina. Tina Cohen-Chang." She reached her hand out, and I shook it firmly.

"Are we the only ones here?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No. You're the fourth here. The other two are upstairs. We don't know who the fifth roommate is, but they'll be here soon, I'm sure."

I smiled. "So, where is my bedroom? I'm exhausted. I feel like I'm about to crash on the floor. I had to run for my flight in Cleveland, and then I had to navigate the subway system, which took me forever, and I got lost trying to find this place."

She pointed up the rickety stairs. "Upstairs. To the left. You'll probably room with Noah."

I froze, my hand hovering above my suitcase handle. "I…I'm not so…sure about…"

She peered at me curiously. "Why not? He's not that bad of a guy, from what I've seen so far, although he's only been here for a couple of hours."

"I'm gay," I mumbled. Sure, it was easier to say it in New York than in Ohio, but who knew where Tina was from, or what her religious beliefs were?

"Oh," she said simply. "Well, I'm sure Noah won't mind much. If he does, you can just move in with me, okay?" I nodded and climbed the stairs, half-heartedly dragging my suitcase behind me.

"Hey, is that the new roommate?" A male's voice asked. Noah?

"Hello?" I poked my head into a mostly-furnished room. "Are you…are you Noah?"

"Yep. Who are you?" He was muscular, wearing a white wife-beater and black pants. His hair was shaved into a Mohawk. He seemed to be of Eastern-European descent, although the larger nose screamed that he was Jewish. He was very sexy, but I could tell right away that he was straight.

"I'm Kurt. I guess this is our bedroom?"

He looked me up and down. "You gay?"

I bit my lip. "Do you have a problem with that?"

He shrugged. "It's cool with me. Just don't crawl in bed with me, okay? I don't swing that way. I have no problem with gays, I'm just attracted to women, you know?"

"No problem," I let out the breath I'd been holding. "I guess I'll just set up my stuff then." I began putting clothes in the small closet, noting that Noah hadn't brought much along with him. I wondered what his story was, and where the other roommate Tina had spoken of was.

"Noah, do you want to go on a grocery run with me?" A soft voice asked. I turned around to see a woman standing in the doorway. At first, I was horrified by her appearance. Her face was heavily scarred and disfigured. At a second glance, I could tell that she was the very picture of a (former) beauty queen, what with her blonde wavy hair and pretty green eyes. Such sorrow I saw in those eyes. I must have been staring, because she noticed me and spoke. "It's okay," she said. "People tend to have that reaction when they see me."

"I…I'm sorry. I didn't…I'm sorry," I said lamely.

"Like I said, I'm used to it." Her voice was low but soft as she spoke. "My name is Quinn."

"Uh…Kurt," I replied. The more I looked at her, the more I wanted to know her story, how she got that way, as it was clear that this was not the face she was born with.

"Hi. So Noah, how about it?"

"Yeah, sure," he got up off of his bed, grabbing his wallet off the nightstand.

"Are you going to go grocery shopping with us, Kurt?" Quinn asked politely.

"I think I'll stay here and unpack," I said, looking at my suitcase. "But thanks for the offer. I don't have any food allergies, so I don't mind what you buy."

"See you later," Noah nodded to me as he left with her. I sighed and went back to my unpacking. I could hear Tina come up the stairs a short while later, and she came in and sat on the edge of my bed.

"So where are you from?"

"Ohio," I said, folding a sweater. "And you?"

"I was adopted from China as a baby. My adoptive parents lived in Texas, though."

"Do…do you know who your real parents are?" I asked curiously.

"No," she said, voice laced with regret. "I've tried looking, but I always seem to end up…disappointed. Why did my mother give me up? Was I not enough? Did she not love me?"

I smiled sadly at her. "I'm sorry. I'm sure she loved you. Maybe she died, or maybe she loved you so much and knew she couldn't provide a nice home for you, so she gave you up, out of love. But Tina, don't give up. It might give you closure or something."

She paused. "Thanks, Kurt." The front door opened and slammed. "I _told_ Noah not to slam," she muttered.

"Heeeeelllllll-oohhhh?" A voice trilled. Tina and I looked at each other; this must be the final roommate.

"Up here," Tina called. Hardly a minute later, a short brunette girl bounded in.

"Hi, I'm Rachel Berry, and I'm _so_ excited to be here!"

I rolled my eyes. This was going to be an interesting group of five. I just hoped we could all get along. I could tell this Rachel girl was going to get on my nerves.

Most of all, I just wanted to forget about my ex-boyfriend and move on with my life.

**To be continued**


	2. Tina

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or White Houses.**

**Note: So nice to see a positive response to this story so far. I'm going to give each of the characters equal billing, and I've cooked up some interesting backstories! **

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_This little bungalow with some strange new friends_

I wish I could tell you that I came to New York City for work or for school. But the truth of the matter is, I'm here for pretty selfish reasons. I want to be noticed, and I want to fall in love. Or is that so selfish after all? I was just a shy, stuttering girl from Plano, Texas, until I moved here. Well, strike that: I no longer stutter, but I'm still pretty shy. I figured maybe the Big Apple would bring out the social butterfly in me, but so far it's just landed me two quiet roommates, one semi-normal (although admittedly very flamboyant) roommate, and one obnoxious, over-the-top diva roommate. I like them and all, but they can be pretty strange. Strange as in strangers, yes, but also…different than I'm used to.

Oh, I'm sure you're wondering who "I" am. I am Tina Cohen-Chang. My parents aren't my real parents. Rather, they adopted me from China when I was a baby. I've never met my birth parents, although I'd love to someday. I've never even seen a picture of them. I wonder, do I have my dad's personality? My mom's smile? Did they have any children before or after me? Why did they give me up? I know in China that boys are favored over girls, but was that the only reason I was given away? Did they die? Was my father absent? Were they teenagers in trouble? There are so many questions that boggle me down day after day. I try not to think of them much. No point in dwelling, I suppose.

I was never the popular girl in school. In fact, people hardly ever noticed me. I got by on sitting in the back of the classroom, praying the teacher wouldn't call on me. On top of that, I had that stutter, so kids left me alone, thinking I was weird. I never had a date to the Prom or to Winter Formal or any dance at all. I did have a boyfriend for a little while, but we broke up when he moved to Oklahoma.

Oh please, let me finally find love and the place I belong here.

"Tina, wanna go explore the neighborhood?" Kurt asked.

"Sure," I replied. I was sure he'd just want to go poking around in some of the stores, but hey, maybe he could suggest some new fashion tips for me in lieu of the 'Goth' look I've been sporting since high school. Besides, I could get to know him and the neighborhood a little better, which was always a plus. We strolled down the street.

"Oh look, that's cute," he pointed out a flouncy dress in the window of a boutique.

I wrinkled my nose in distaste. "Not really my style."

He looked me over, head to toe. "Oh please, honey. That look was _so_ 2003."

"Well…any suggestions?" Maybe having a gay roommate could have its advantages.

"Hmm," he studied my face. "With that complexion, nothing too red or yellow. Perhaps some nice blues and purples. But no pink, that will look terrible. Yes, I see you looking ravishing in a nice navy dress."

"Thanks, I guess," I mumbled.

"Well, New York _is_ the fashion capital of America. And we, honey, are in the middle of its artistic soul. All of these little bohemian-chic stores…they're certainly not Sak's Fifth Avenue, but they have a nice…charm to them."

I had to laugh. "Kurt, you're from what, Ohio? How do you know so much about fashion?"

"I've been getting a monthly subscription to _Vogue_ since I was ten. I know all the latest trends, and I have a keen eye for discounts on major designer labels."

"So…do you have a boyfriend?" I asked.

"Ah, no, recently single," he said quickly. "And you?"

"I've been single since my junior year of high school," I admitted.

"Oh no, honey. A pretty girl like yourself?" I shrugged. "Well, not to worry. We'll both get back on the wagon sooner than you can say 'Gucci'."

I giggled. "Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll be roommates, too."

He gasped. "I like the way you think! So speaking of, what do you think of ours?"

"Well," I paused. "Puck seems reserved, but otherwise an okay guy. Not my type, though. Quinn is quiet too, but she's nice."

"What's up with…you know?" Kurt tried to dodge around the subject gently.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I didn't think it was appropriate to ask. I'm sure she'll tell us sooner or later, when she's ready." We continue down the street. "As for Rachel…well, she's…she's very…"

"Loud?" Kurt supplied. "Obnoxious? Ambitious?"

"Yes," I laughed. "All of those things. And I have to share a bedroom with her!"

"Eh, you and Quinn can always duct-tape her mouth shut if need be. Wait, you're old enough to drink, right?" I nodded. "Then it's settled. Tonight, we'll hit the club. You and I need to find us some grade-A, sexy, hot as hell in bed, New York men."

I blushed. "I'm, uh, still a virgin."

His eyes widened. "Oh my gosh, I didn't know. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable."

"It's okay," I said quietly. "Are…are you?"

"Nah, I lost mine to my ex-boyfriend," he said with a roll of his eyes. He was joking about it, but I could tell that this ex of his has hurt him badly. He's just wearing a mask to hide the pain. Underneath, he seemed to be vulnerable. I wondered what this guy did to him. It was obviously a serious relationship if they'd…well, had sex. And here I was, the little Asian virgin with apparently outdated fashion sense and no 'game'.

"Girl, we need to loosen you up," Kurt shook me by the shoulders. "Okay, so tonight we hit the club, and then tomorrow, we're going shopping to get you a brand-new wardrobe." He must've seen the horrified expression on my face, because he rushes on. "Oh, don't worry, nothing _too _feminine or dramatic. Maybe we'll get your hair trimmed too, get some highlights to bring out those eyes of yours. Oh, I just love makeovers! I haven't done one in so long, and here's my perfect opportunity, too!"

Is it too late to take back what I said about having a gay roommate had its advantages?

**To be continued**


	3. Quinn

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or White Houses.**

**Note: So, so glad you're enjoying this. It will definitely be Hummelberry friendship, but I'm not sure if it'll be Quick yet. I'm kind of pleased with the Quinn backstory, so here you have it. Domestic violence warning on this chapter. **

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_Stay up too late, and I'm too thin_

I looked into the cracked mirror of our dingy home, my reflection distorted. I don't even recognize myself anymore. It's not just the way the mirror is cracked and jagged, but the girl in the mirror, I don't know her. She's ugly and scarred and disfigured. She used to be a size-two teenage dream. She's still a size-two, but she's no longer a teenager, and she's certainly not a dream. She's hideous. What man could love her now?

Quinn Fabray, former beauty queen. I had been Prom Queen. I had been Homecoming Queen. I was even in the running for Miss Arizona. So how did it get to this point? How did I go from the prettiest, most popular girl in school to the ugliest girl on the streets? I was the captain of the cheerleading squad, dating the quarterback of the football team. Everyone stared when I walked down the halls, with my blonde hair and green eyes.

Now they stare at me for a different reason.

They see the scars and they wonder, "what happened?"

I could tell you what happened. I really could. But should I? It could be a warning to other girls like me, the ones who think they could never get hurt. I went to Yale, for goodness sake. I _am_ Miss Ivy League. I just…made a wrong turn.

I didn't do this to myself. Why would anyone do this to themselves? No, he did it. I can't say his name—he's in jail for what he did—but I can tell you that he abused me.

It started with the innocent things, the jealousy and the name-calling. He'd get jealous if I talked to my friends back home, even if they were just that—friends. He'd push me around if he saw me talking to another guy on campus, even if we were just working on a class project together. He'd slap me if another guy looked my way, as if it were my fault. I cried. Don't get me wrong, it hurt, and I cried. But I didn't tell a soul, not even God. I covered the bruises with dresses and shrugs and long sleeves. I covered them by wearing black tights and makeup. I'd shrug it off, saying I walked into something, and oh, how clumsy of me. No one looked twice. He kept up appearances in public, the golden boy, the man about campus.

And I took it, all of it, every slap, every kick, and every punch.

I didn't realize that it had gone too far until he'd set fire to our apartment—purposely.

That's how I got my scars.

They cover seventy percent of my body, mostly my face and my torso. There are some scars on my arms and legs, but they're not as noticeable. I spent almost two months in the hospital in recovery.

That's when I broke my silence.

And that's when I moved to New York City—to start over and get away from the memories. He was in jail now, he'd confessed, and he was away for hopefully a long time.

But I haven't told the roommates. They've been starting, but I can't bring myself to tell them the truth. What would they think of me, of my choices? What would they think of Miss Teen Arizona 2007? What would they say?

I don't know if I want their sympathies.

Ladies, don't let a man push you around.

Don't wait until it's almost too late, like I did.

Break your silence. It's okay. There's women's shelters for girls like us, they'll take you in and keep you secret, away from the abusers. They'll provide you with a home, try to get you back on your feet. You can even bring your children.

I wish I'd known about the shelters. I would've liked to spend time with the children. Children don't see the world in black and white like adults do. They see in colors. They see people for who they are as opposed to what they look like. I bet they wouldn't see my scars. They'd see me, Quinn, a friend, someone who knows what they're going through.

I flopped back on my bed in the room I shared with Tina and Rachel. "Hey, wanna order out for a pizza?" Tina asked.

"If you'd like to. I'm…on a diet," I said. It was true, I didn't eat much. It was a result of my crazy dieting days as a cheerleader. I wasn't bulimic; that wasn't my route. I just skipped a meal here and there when I found it necessary. I knew I was thin, probably too thin, but it suited me. Being thin and pretty was all that I knew. If I couldn't be pretty anymore, at least I could be thin.

"Okay," Tina shrugged, and she went downstairs. I listened to her walk away. She seemed like a nice girl, a quiet girl, a pretty girl, if she'd lose the Goth look. If there was anyone in this house I would tell my secret to, it would be her. Rachel is too loud, Kurt is a gossip, and I'm not sure if I can trust Noah yet.

I stay up when the others have gone to sleep. It's just a side affect, the insomnia, up late constantly worrying if he was going to hurt me again. I knew if I tried to leave, that would be it for me.

Actually, I tried to leave once.

It didn't turn out too well. It was a long night of rough, unforgiving pain.

But you know what? This could be my new chance to start over. I'm not ready to fall in love again. I don't know if I ever will be. All I know is that I certainly can't face my old friends in Arizona. I was their beauty queen, I was the one they all worshipped in high school. I can't go back there again and show them what's become of their pretty girl.

I know I should hate him, and I do.

But I think I hate myself more, for letting him do this to me.

Is that such a bad thing at all?

**To be continued.**


	4. Rachel

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or White Houses.**

**Note: This is Rachel's introduction. She's probably gonna be the most in character compared to the show, so Rachel fans, get excited. Unless you only like her with Finn, in which case, don't get excited, because Finn is not in this.**

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_We promise each other it's 'til the end_

Hi. My name is Rachel Barbra Berry, and I am Broadway's Next Big Thing.

Do I sound conceited? I'm sorry, I've been told that before, and I don't really care. I know I'm a star. I was made for Broadway, and Broadway was made for me. I'm a girl who knows what she wants, and what I want is to be up on the Broadway stage with my name in lights on the marquee outside. I want to be the next Barbra, the next Patti, the next Ethel. And I know I will be, someday. Even if it means living South of Houston Street for a few years. It does have a certain charm to it, and not everyone can live on Park Avenue or the Upper East Side. Every star has to start out somewhere, and I suppose I'm starting out here for now.

There are three roles I want to play on the stage before I die. I shall be Eva Perón in _Evita_, Fanny Bryce in _Funny Girl_, and Laurey in _Oklahoma!_. As you can see, they are a range of roles and musicals, from the great team of Rodgers and Hammerstein to the graces of Ms. LuPone herself. I've so far played Sally Bowles in _Cabaret_, Janet in _The_ _Rocky Horror Show_, and Maria in _West Side Story_. Again, iconic roles, and as anyone knows, the part of Maria was made for me. It really was not a surprise that I'd get it. And I was only a sophomore in high school when I played Sally. That was a really big deal. A list like that was what got me into Carnegie Mellon for theatre, right here, where I belong. Of course only now can I afford the rent of an apartment, and just barely, as I'm still in debt from school. And even though I have to share, it'll do for now.

And don't get me started on the difference between a _play_ and a _musical_.

You'd think a determined girl like me wouldn't have time to date, but trust me, I do. I have a wonderful boyfriend back home in Maine. He totally understands my dreams and supports them and my ambitions. He's lucky to have a girl like me.

So I walked up to the shabby apartment that day, prepared to meet my roommates—arriving fashionably late, as one does—and right away, I was not welcomed warmly. I wondered why. Was it because I was the last one there? A feeling of dread washed over my stomach for a moment. Didn't they know who I was? Everyone knew who I was back in my hometown of Augusta, Maine. They all knew Rachel Berry, and they knew she was a force to be reckoned with.

These roommates? They didn't even acknowledge me.

"Excuse me, but where's my room and bathroom?" I asked the girl with the black hair.

"This is it," she grumbled, gesturing to the small bedroom with three beds and two dressers crammed into it. "Bathroom's down the hall and there's a half downstairs."

I blinked. "E…excuse me? I…I thought this was a two-bedroom."

"Yes, and you share this one with us. The boys get the other one." The blonde spoke up. I immediately drew back when I saw her face. It was _Phantom _-esque, and threw me off guard for a moment. I could tell that she used to be a pretty girl, though, like the popular girls who used to make fun of me in high school. She must've seen my gaping mouth, because she continued. "Look, maybe you're used to getting all you've ever wanted. You're probably a spoiled only child, a daddy's little girl with Big Broadway Dreams. Well look, around here, it's gonna be different. You share a bedroom, you share a bathroom, and you clean up after yourself. You got it?" I nodded. "Good. She's Tina, and I'm Quinn. The boys are Kurt and Noah. They're down the hall."

I set down my bags and started unpacking, startled at how little closet and dresser space I had. I heard a voice in the doorway, and turned around to see a well-dressed boy.

"You must be Rachel. I'm Kurt. If you're a homophobe, I hate you. If you're not, well, we just might get along."

I stood there, flabbergasted. "No, I…I'm not homophobic, I…I have two dads, I love them to death, I have no problem at all with gay people."

"Good." He said after a short moment. He gathered Tina and set off to browse the boutiques in the area.

"Hey, Quinn, wanna go to the grocery store?" A male's voice asked from the hallway. That must've been Noah. He poked his head into the room.

And he was gorgeous.

Dark eyes, hair buzzed into a Mohawk that ordinarily wouldn't attract me, but in this case, it did, and arm muscles that a girl would just love to feel and hold.

And I could just tell that he was Jewish, like me.

If I didn't have a boyfriend waiting for me back home, this Noah would be the type of boy I'd love to have on my arm while on the red carpet of the Tony Awards.

I wanted these people to like me. And I mean, genuinely like me, not just pretend to like me. I didn't really have friends in high school or college, because I was so career-driven. But maybe this is my chance to make real friends, friends that I'd have til the day I die (as a wealthy retired Broadway veteran, of course).

I guess here's the best place to start my career and the rest of my life.

No, screw guessing. I'm done with guessing.

This _is_ where I belong.

**To be continued.**


	5. Noah

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or White Houses.**

**Note: Last introductory chapter, and, of course, it's Puck. Although in this, he's referred to as Noah. **

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_Now we're spinning empty bottles, it's the five of us_

You might call me a bad boy.

You might call me a liar or a thief.

Heck, you might even call me a rebellious shithead.

But I'm here to set the record straight: I am none of those things.

I, Noah Puckerman, was falsely accused of committing various crimes. I swear to God, I didn't do any of the things they said I did. But did the justice system believe me? Of course they didn't. So I ended up in jail for a few years. And let me tell you, it was real messed up in there. They didn't serve any kosher meals, and they treated you like you were less than human, like you were a literal pile of shit.

It's the worst feeling in the world.

I tried to be good, you know, see if I could get off early on good behavior. I didn't get mixed up in any drug deals or get any of those prison tattoos or anything like that. I didn't talk much to the other prisoners in my ward and never made eye contact with the most dangerous ones.

Especially after one of them tried to make me his prison bitch.

But let me tell you, I wasn't having any of that. Not Noah Puckerman. He doesn't stand for that crap, especially after his father molested and raped his little sister.

And really, that's why I'm in jail. I was trying to get little Sara out of that situation, try to get her to safety and all that, and I got in a fight with my father, who blamed the whole thing on me. They did a rape test or whatever, but of course my father and I have the same DNA. It was his word against mine, and Sara wasn't 'competent to stand trial', so I got blamed.

God, I thought I'd never get out of that place.

But they did another trial thing, and Sara named our father as the guy who did those things to her, and said I was only trying to be a good big brother and save her. They let me go after that. The day I left jail, my father arrived.

I never want to see that son of a bitch again.

Little Sara lives with our aunt and uncle now. I'm not allowed to have custody of her until I'm 25, and I'm 22 now, so it's only a few more years. God, she'll be 13 by then. Am I gonna be able to handle raising a teenage girl, especially one who's my sister? I don't care, I'll do it. She's my baby sister, and it's my job to protect her from the bad guys in this world. Abusive dads, crappy boyfriends, I have to protect her from them. I love her, you know? I mean, yeah, there's an age gap, but I love her nonetheless.

So, I came here to New York, moving from our home in Iowa. New York is a pretty cool place, and I got to rent a cheap apartment. I have roommates, but it's kind of like college, which I missed no thanks to the man I used to call my father. Maybe I'll sign up for some classes or something. I don't know, maybe I can go into criminal justice, bust guys like my dad who abuse their kids.

I was the second one to arrive in the house. "Hey, anyone around?" I called up the stairs that led to the bedrooms.

"Be down in a second," a soft voice called back. Cool, so I'd be rooming with some chicks. If there was any justice left in this world, they'd be hot, and I'd get some action. I set my bag down and looked around the living room and tiny kitchen. This was a pretty cool place to live, downtown and away from the snobs on Park Avenue. I heard footsteps descending the stairs and turned around. A blonde girl with a scarred face came into view.

Swear to God, she took my breath away.

Despite the fact that her face was a mess of scars—burn victim?—she was still undeniably _hot_, with a slamming body to match. Her eyes were a piercing green, something I'd never seen before.

I wanted her so bad, like I'd never wanted any girl before.

She caught me staring at her. "Hi, I'm Quinn."

Quinn. Man, even her name was beautiful. "Uh, hey, I'm Noah."

"Noah." Her voice was soft and lilting. The way she said my name nearly made me get hard, it was that sexy. "Well, it's nice to meet you."

"Yeah, you too. So, we the first ones here?"

"Yes. There are three others coming later today. Here, I'll show you your room." I swallowed and followed her up the rickety stairs to the second level, where there were two bedrooms, one with two beds and the other with three beds, and a bathroom. "This is your room," she pointed at the one with the two beds. I guessed that meant I was rooming with another dude. Again, kind of like college, but at least there was a hot-ass girl right down the hall. And who knew, maybe the other two girls would be hot, too. Noah Puckerman could have a _lot_ of fun in New York City, and he didn't even need to go down to one of those seedy strip clubs, because the hottest ticket in town was right freaking here.

"Cool," I nodded, trying to play it like no sweat in front of her. I unpacked what little things I had and she went downstairs to greet the next person to arrive, an Asian chick named Tina who was pretty hot, but not as hot as Quinn. I chilled on my bed and a couple hours later a guy named Kurt showed up. He said straight off the bat that he was gay—as if I couldn't tell by the way he dressed or talked—but that was cool with me, as long as he didn't try to do anything to me while I was sleeping or spy on me in the shower or anything like that. Besides, I wouldn't have to worry about him trying to steal Quinn's heart from me. I was determined to sleep with her by the end of the summer.

Then again, maybe she was special enough to actually have a real relationship with instead of just be a friends-with-benefits thing, like I had in high school.

The last chick to arrive was a super-annoying short girl named Rachel who announced to anyone who would listen that she was, in fact, a star. I took that as my cue to ask Quinn to go grab some food with me down at the grocery store on the corner.

And the stars must've been aligned with me, because she agreed.

We didn't talk much on our food run, but that didn't matter. I was in one of the most badass cities in America was a smoking hot girl and I was _living_ with her.

Hey, maybe this was the path I was meant to take.

And maybe I'm down with that.

**To be continued.**


	6. Rachel II

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or White Houses.**

**Note: Thanks for the kind reviews! Things are going to be a little more sporadic in terms of updates to this and "Triggers" as class is back in session and I have a ton of campus events to attend and work at, but I will certainly try my hardest. **

* * *

_With pretty eyed boys girls die to trust _

Okay, so I knew I have a boyfriend back home in Maine, but Noah was really, really cute.

Judge me all you want, but a girl's gotta have her options, you know? This is especially more so when she's going to be on the red carpet someday, attending opening night parties and the Tony Awards. (By the way, I plan on having my first Tony by the age of 25, which is coming up in a few years for me.) There's nothing I loved more than being a star, except maybe watching a Streisand marathon while curled up with a mug of steaming hot tea during a menstrual cycle.

But I digress.

Noah was very, very cute, and I wanted to know what his intentions in the house were. I went upstairs to talk to him. "Hello, Noah," I said breezily.

"Whatever," he grunted.

I pulled my hair back behind my ear. "So how are you doing today?"

He shrugged. "Alright."

I nodded. "That's good." I cleared my throat. "So…where are you from."

He continued to stare at the wall. "Nowhere near here, and that's all you need to know."

Why was he being so secretive, so strange? "I'm from Maine," I said, trying to prompt somewhat of a conversation. "I do really like it here. It's the city of dreams."

He snorted. "Yeah. You and eight million other people have that dream." I looked at him in confusion. "That big city you-can-do-anything-you-want-and-be-famous dream," he supplied. "And don't try to tell me that that's not you. You straight-up said you're gonna be a big Broadway star. Well, you know what? Lots of people want that same dream. So what makes you so special? You're just one of them. One _of_ millions, Rachel, not one_ in_ a million."

I tried to blink back my tears. "Why are you so pessimistic?"

"You don't know what real shit is, kid. You've had everything handed to you on a silver platter, am I right? Well, this is the real world. You don't always get what you want."

I ran out of the room, tears spilling from my eyes. How could he be so harsh? I'm a star! I have genuine talent! Who does he think he is?

And yet, his dark brown eyes held so much sadness in them, so much sorrow. He'd been through a lot, I could tell, but what? What had caused him to be so utterly jaded and bitter?

He hadn't mentioned his family yet. Was that it?

Did his heart get stomped on by some horrible girl, and that's why he was so pained?

I didn't know, but I wanted to, oh so badly.

I set off on my first round of castings the next day. Oh, how I wanted to be in the new revival of _Evita_! I prayed for a miracle as I anxiously awaited for them to see me. I knew what song I wanted to sing, and I knew it forwards and backwards.

"Number…23?"

"That would be me," I jumped up, smoothing out my skirt and heading into the audition room. "Hi, my name is Rachel Berry. I'm 21 years old, and I have a bachelor's degree in theatre from Carnegie-Mellon." I handed them my resume. "Today, I will be singing Eva's cry to her people, 'Don't Cry For Me, Argentina'." I cleared my throat, nodding to the pianist to begin. "It won't be easy, you'll think it strange when I try to explain how I feel…"

I don't want to brag, but I nailed that song with a hammer.

They said thanks and sent me on my way. I thanked them for their time, and left the audition with a smile on my face, sure that I was the next Eva. I hummed 'Buenos Aires' on my way back to the apartment. "Hello? I'm back!"

I heard Puck groan from his and Kurt's bedroom. "Oh joy for us, Rachel Berry has graced the apartment with her presence once again."

"Excuse me, what is your problem with me?" I asked as I ascended the stairs.

"You're a spoiled little girl with this view of the world that's, excuse my language, total bullshit. You think everything and everyone revolves around you. News flash: it doesn't."

I was indignant. "I do _not_ think…"

"Yes, you do," he said heatedly. "And for your information, _Princess_, I don't dig chicks like that. Why can't you be more like Tina or Quinn? Then I wouldn't mind living with you so much. It's a shame that you're like, this semi-hot girl but your head is so full with these crap dreams that will never come true."

Had he just called me hot? I turned red. "You think I'm hot?" I mumbled.

"You'd be hotter if you weren't so conceited," he shot my way.

God, he was the kind of boy girls would die to trust. Why was he like this, though? Were Tina and Quinn really that much better than I was? Quinn, the ex-beauty queen with her scarred face? Tina, the shy, quiet girl who typically faded into the background?

Quinn was the type of girl who hated me in high school.

And in middle school.

And even in kindergarten.

But oh, how the mighty had fallen.

I'd prove to Noah that I was a star, that I could make it out in the world.

So what if I had a boyfriend?

What happens in New York stays in New York.

Or at least, that's what they say.

**To be continued. **


	7. Quinn II

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or White Houses.**

**Note: So sorry for the lack of updates. College life kind of just got in the way, you know? I pretty much always have reading to do for social psychology and human services classes. Sigh. Anyway, let's continue, shall we? **

* * *

_I can't resist the day_

Maybe it was a mistake. I didn't know what I was doing there anymore. I mean, did I really think I was going to change my life around just by going to New York City? Did I think I was going to find love and acceptance, despite my scarring?

And yet, Noah had been absolutely wonderful to me. He'd been a gentleman, holding the door open for me and letting me shower first in our tiny upstairs bathroom. He'd even carried the heavy groceries for me (I could've handled it myself, but it was still a sweet gesture).

And his eyes were so soulful, so absolutely stunning. I couldn't resist them if I tried.

Of course, he'd been so mysterious. None of us knew a thing about his past or his family, other than that he had a younger sister. We barely knew where he'd come from. I had to wonder what his story was. Was it more tragic than mine? Was it as intense, as utterly heartbreaking?

What girls had he loved?

Tragically beautiful, that's what I'd been called, although I saw myself as being more beautifully tragic. I mean, take a look at me. Former beauty queen. I could've had it all; fame, fortune, a loving husband and children. I made one mistake, and it cost me everything.

There isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret it.

"So Quinn, tell us more about Arizona," Tina said, jolting me from my thoughts.

"Well," I said slowly. "The weather is certainly different."

She chuckled politely. "I'm sure it is. So what part are you from?"

"Flagstaff," I replied.

"So…were you ever…Prom Queen?" Rachel asked timidly, not meeting my gaze.

"Yes," I whispered. "Homecoming Queen as well."

My roommates were silent for a few moments. "I'll bet you were one of the prettiest, most popular girls in school," Rachel said quietly.

"Why are you so obsessed with being popular?" Tina asked in a sharp voice.

"I'm not obsessed-"

"Yes, you are," Tina said in exasperation. "Everything is fame and popularity with you. Look, it's not cool. Quinn clearly doesn't want to talk about her high school years. I'm sorry it sucked for you back then. Hey, it sucked for me too. But there's a point where you have to stop dwelling on it and_ move on_."

Hmm. Maybe the quiet girl had a point. Maybe I had to pack up all that emotional baggage and move on with my life. I could stop thinking about him and what he did to me. I could push all that aside, thank God that I'm alive, and try to find someone new, someone who won't hurt me and will love me for the way I am.

"Excuse me," I murmured, and I left the two to squabble. I went down the hall and knocked on Noah and Kurt's door. Kurt was flipping through a fashion magazine on his bed, and Noah was reading a crime novel. "Hey."

Noah immediately looked up, putting the book beside him. "Quinn, hey."

"Hello," Kurt said, never taking his eyes off the page he was engrossed in.

"Noah, I was wondering if maybe you'd like to have dinner with me tonight. My roommates are fighting and it's getting a bit aggravating."

His eyes widened. "Just you and me?" I nodded. "Yeah, sure, sounds great."

"Five-thirty sound good?" I asked.

"Perfect," he smiled.

"Great, meet me downstairs then." I turned and left him, jaw gaping at Kurt.

"Dude, you gotta help me find an outfit," I heard him beg his roommate.  
Did Noah want to impress me? Why?

I changed into a flowy sundress. To my surprise, Noah was looking quite handsome in a blue polo shirt and black pants. "I see Kurt got to you," I teased.

He looked embarrassed. "Well, I kind of wanted to look nice, you know?"

We walked around the Village in search for dinner. I tried to talk to him about his family, but he refused to answer most of my questions. So what was with him? The only person he'd talk freely about was his sister, Sara.

But was he _ever_ handsome! I felt even more self-conscious than ever, knowing people would probably be wondering what a girl like me would be doing with a boy like him.

And, always the gentleman, he paid for dinner.

And he insisted on holding my hand on the way back home.

I wasn't sure if I'd fall in love so quickly after it all happened, but apparently God had another plan for me.

Because all I knew was that I was falling for Noah.

**To be continued.**


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